Finding Neal
by Idreamofivan
Summary: Neal needs a kidney transplant to survive. Peter will do anything to make sure he gets one, even if that means forcing Neal to talk about his childhood and his family. Neal whumpage! No slash
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I do not own white collar.

**Finding Neal**

"Neal, are you ok?" Peter asked concerned helping his friend up, while the other FBI agents handcuffed the man Neal had just helped them catch for mortgage fraud.

"Ouch," Neal grabbed his stomach as he stood up, "what happened to the good all times when mortgages cases were boring and didn't include people the size of giants beating me up?"

Peter chuckled, "are you ok? Jones call the paramedics."

"Peter, I am fine, I think I can handle a couple of punches to the stomach without dying!" Neal complained, "Jones, I do not need paramedics, I am fine! Lets get out of here!" he said as he walked to his partner's car without giving anyone else a chance to say anything.

Peter noticed how Neal's arms were gently wrapping his mid section and his steps were odd and unbalance as if with each one he was trying a different position that would hurt him less.

He saw Neal's eyes open wide in pain and silently gasp for air when he entered the Taurus.

"Are you sure you don't want to get that checked out?" Peter asked him concern trying to lift Neal's shirt to look at his mid section.

"Keep your hands to yourself!" Neal moved annoyed, wincing in pain when he did so.

"That looks like is going to bruise badly."

"I am FINE, Peter. Cowboy up, right?" Neal sighed exasperated

"Fine, whatever, that is what I get for asking," now it was Peter's turn to be annoyed.

"Right." Neal said firmly but once he didn't feel he was under scrutiny any more, he closed his eyes and tiredly lean his head against the window.

Peter pretended not to see how awkward Neal's movements were and the younger man pretended not to be in pain. It worked for them, this kind of don't ask and I'll pretend I am tough kind of policy.

Though as soon as they arrived to the office the older man got an ice pack and threw it unceremoniously to the consultant that was already sitting in his desk with an "I am so glad I don't have to move any more" smile in his face.

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"Want a ride home?" Peter approached Neal's desk.

Buried in files, the consultant had barely moved or made a sound since they had arrived. Peter figured his stomach was still a little soar from the beating, but since Neal refused to discuss the topic he figured the only thing he could do was offering him a ride home a couple of hours earlier than usual.

Neal looked as his watch surprised, but just nodded, "that would be great, thanks."

This time Peter walked in front of Neal, so he didn't notice that his walk had actually gotten worst and that tears of pain threatened to fill his eyes with every step.

The nausea started at the same time the car did, Neal closed his eyes, he refused to throw up in front of Peter. He hated worrying Peter, he hated Peter smothering him and he hated Peter telling him to cowboy up, so he figured the best solution was to pretend that nothing was wrong.

"I need to stop by the deli over there, get myself something to eat, I just want to rest tonight," Neal lied trying to find an excuse that would allow him to get out of the car and puke. Something that would make sure that Peter didn't see him struggling with the stairs in June's house.

"Do you want me to go get you something?" Peter offered, a hint of concern in his tone.

"No, Peter," Neal's gave him what he could muster of his winning smile, "I am fine, I just want you to leave me here and stop acting like a concerned father, I am not a child and I am ok, I can take care of myself."

"Neal…."

"I'll see you tomorrow Peter," Neal interrupted him, running out of the car.

Neal ran inside the deli, straight to the bathroom and gave free range to the earthquake in his stomach. After what it felt like an eternity, and several knocks from an angry deli customer, he finally managed to stand up, splash his face with icy cold water and with tremendous effort walk the block and a half that separated him from June's house.

The cold air helped him clear his head, which was somehow getting muddled. He felt as if he was walking in the clouds and only the pain of each step and the freezing air seem to help him remember where he was going and why.

Climbing the stairs was the worst part, he was glad June was not home, so he could take his time going up. He had to rest every couple of steps and he virtually crawled the last set of stairs since his legs refused to continue carrying him.

"Woow…these people did do a number on me!" he thought to himself wondering if he should actually allow Peter to take him to a doctor, "I will be ok after some sleep," he mumbled automatically discarding that idea.

So he crawled, almost dragging his body for the last few feet and laid in his bed, gratefully welcoming sleep.

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The phone on his pocket startled him a few hours later. He woke up confused and looked around; he was in his house, his suit still on even if he had fallen asleep. His stomach was on fire, he felt as if someone has stabbed him repeatedly. His thoughts were clouded and he could not think straight. His head was pounding and his body was freezing while his face and abdomen were burning hot.

The phone rang twice more before he understood what that meant.

"Hello?" he picked up.

"Hey buddy, is me."

"Peter?" Neal asked groggy.

"Yeah, did I wake you up?"

"Yes, sorry, I must have passed out. I was tired." Neal fought with every fiber of his body to regain his composure.

"Well that is probably for the best. How is your stomach?"

"My stomach?" Neal asked confused, his stomach felt as if someone had ripped it open and was throwing acid in his open wound. Why was he in so much pain? What had happened?

"Well, I guess if you can't even remember it means that you are fine. That is good to know. I just called to let you know that we need to be at work early tomorrow, I'll come pick you up at 7, don't be late."

"Peter?" Neal asked, wondering if he should tell him he was in agony. He hated worrying Peter and he was scared Peter was going to say he was whining out of nothing, but he was no masochist.

"Yeah?"

But Neal was so tired… all he wanted to do was sleep, talking to his friend would mean that he was going to come and take him to the doctor and that would imply waking up and moving, and Neal didn't want to even think about that right now.

"Nothing, see you tomorrow at 7"

Yet, Neal's plans for a long restful sleep were interrupted seconds later by an urge to get rid of all the contents of his stomach.

He struggled to get out of bed, falling limply to the floor and pushing his body to the rest room, he barely made it, retching his guts out, half on the toilet, the other half ended in the floor and all over himself. If he could have remember all he had puked early on, he would have been surprised by the fact that there was more to come out of his body.

After what he knew was forever, the stomach spasms subsided. He could feel his entrails burning with acidity of the bile and his stomach felt as if it was raw open and soar.

He whimpered out of impotence and looked around him. The bathroom floor was dirty, his clothes were soaked with sweat and puke and he barely had the strength to move. He stretched to the tub and open the cold water, forcing his head to go under it and took the few second of clarity that that gave him to get rid of his dirty clothes. He would clean them and the bathroom tomorrow; right now he needed a nap.

Shivering, only in his underwear and with his hair soaked, he used the walls to steady himself up.

He managed to take five unsteady steps before passing out in his living room.

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Peter hanged up his phone furious and a little worried. He had call his partner three times to tell him he was downstairs waiting for him and each time it had gone straight to voicemail.

He looked at his phone 7.15 am, he had clearly told Neal to be ready to be picked up at 7! He sighed and parked his car.

"I am going to kill him for making me go up there looking for him. Who does he thinks he is? Am I his maid or something? God, I am sending him straight back to jail!" He mumbled angrily to himself as he walked up the stairs to get Neal.

The door to his apartment was closed, Peter was about to forget his manners and open it unceremoniously, but he was scared he might find more than he bargained on the other side of the door. What if Neal was naked with woman in his bed?

Nonetheless, he made sure to knock the door in a way that denoted his frustration.

Neal opened his eyes with effort. Why did his head hurt so badly? Why was his stomach on fire? He felt as if he had drank all the alcohol bottles in the world and someone had decided to break those bottles in his head and cut his stomach with them.

Moving his head required evident effort and he barely managed to lift it enough to look around his apartment confused. All he knew was that he was lying on the floor on his underwear, and he felt as if a bulldozer had run him over.

"Neal, open up this door immediately!" he heard Peter's voice yell angrily, "open up or swear to god I will knock this door down!"

Neal groaned in pain and, gathering strength he didn't have, he managed to crawl to the door.

"NEAAALLL" he heard his headache inducer yell one more time when he wasn't fast enough.

"It's open," Neal stopped where he was and used all his strength to shout back, praying that it was true.

"Neal I told you to be ready at 7!" Peter told him angrily. "What are you doing sitting on the floor on your underwear?"

"I am sorry, give me two minutes." Neal said sheepishly, he voice barely audible. He hoped Peter thought it was because he was ashamed, the truth, speaking required too much effort.

He forced himself to stand up and stumbled to the bathroom.

Peter watched as Neal stood up with obvious effort, he flinched when he saw his partner's stomach was black and blue and suddenly remembered what had happened yesterday. His anger automatically turned to concern when he saw Neal stumbling trying to grab something, anything, to keep his balance.

"Neal, are you ok?" Peter said running to him, making sure he didn't fell. Neal shook him off and took the last four steps to the bathroom, leaving the door ajar.

"Yeah." The conman said dazed while he splashed cold water on his face. "I guess yesterdays beating was worst than I thought at first."

Neal didn't remember what had happened last night and he was too out of it to take in the mess in the bathroom.

"I am ready," he said coming out of the bathroom, "we can go now."

"Neal, you are only wearing your underwear," Peter tone denoted a hint of amusement and a bit of concern.

"Oh… right," Neal said obviously beyond the realm of coherence, "No wonder I was so cold. I think I am going to sit for a second if you don't mind," saying that he threw himself in the first chair around him.

"You don't look too good, Neal, why don't you rest for a while?"

"But I need to go to the office, Peter, I don't want to go back to jail."

"You are not going back to jail just because you don't feel good, Neal," Peter sighed, thinking Neal's reactions seemed to exceed the expected ones for a beating.

"Good, because my stomach hurts, Peter," his hand covered the affected area, without really touching it, "real bad… and I am cold."

Peter grabbed a throw that was lying on the sofa and threw it a Neal, "of course you are cold! You are half naked!"

Neal covered himself with the blanket, looking utterly confused, his eyes fighting to close. Peter sighed.

"I am going to call Hughes and let him know that you are calling in sick."

"Tell him I don't want to go to jail, Peter, tell him… I can work." Neal was scared.

"Neal, calm down, Hughes is not going to put you back in jail." Peter explained calmly as he dialed the number.

"Tell him…." Neal pleaded

"I'll take care of everything, don't worry, ok, buddy?"

Neal relaxed sinking more in the chair and closing his eyes, he was fast asleep a few seconds later when Peter finished his call.

"Let's take you to bed," he offered Neal a hand to stand up and he took it, but as soon as his body made a move, Neal screamed in pain and lay back down.

"What is wrong?" Peter was starting to panic.

"No moving… hurts!" Neal was taking short shallow breath, trying to stop the pain.

"Come on, Neal," Peter got closer to him and Neal moved as far back as he could in the chair.

"Nooo…." Neal was scared and Peter could see it.

He cursed mentally, the wound had to hurt a lot to cause Neal's reaction. "Neal," he said getting closer to the kid and grabbing his upper arm, ready to carry Neal if necessary, "Crap! Neal you are burning up."

As soon as his skin touched Neal's the heat emanating from the con's body was obvious and scary, Peter was no expert in detecting a fever, but he was sure human flesh should not burn to the touch.

Neal just looked at him as if he couldn't comprehend his words any more. "I think I am going to be sick, Peter," he said after a minute.

"You are sick, buddy, we need to take you…" Peter was interrupted by Neal's gagging. "Ohhh, that sick!" he said, running to grab the trash can and watched Neal dry heave for a while, until the young man's body gave up in exhaustion and went limp.

"Neal, Neal…" Peter tried to reanimate the kid unsuccessfully. "Oh crap…" he said as he dialed 911.

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In a small town in California...

"Good night Jenny, take this, we won't be able to sell them before they expire." The old woman told her.

Jenny looked at the milk cartons; they weren't going to expire any time soon. She know the Jones wanted to give her a raise but not could afford it and they had always been like parents to her, they were actually way better parents than her real ones.

"Thank you, Gracey. Good night," she kissed the woman's cheek.

"Don't forget the lottery ticket," Gracey's husband, Robert, came running to the door, carrying young Cassy on his shoulder, a lottery ticket in her tinny hand. " 04 23 09 17 05 25, as always."

"Well, at least that makes sure that we never forget your birthday, dear," the older woman smiled.

"Or your brother's," the old man sighed slightly disapproving, letting the little girl down and she ran to her mother.

"Or the last time I saw him," Jenny replied sadly, picking up the four year old.

"Don't worry, mom," Cassy's childish voice tried her best to reassure her mom, "we will win the lottery soon and then we will hire THE BEST private investigator and he will find uncle Neal," she kissed her mom's cheek, "I can feel it here," she touched her heart.

Jenny smiled at her child and looking into her big blue eyes, caressed her golden hair.

"Neal… let's go, it's late."

"I am almost done, mom, give me one second," the sixteen year old finished re-arranging the merchandising and walked back to the cashier section where the other people were. He had been working for the Jones after school for almost two years now. The Jones were like the grandparents he never had and he would have done anything for them and that meant he took his job extremely serious.

Jenny looked at her oldest walking towards them; he looked exactly like her brother had at his age. Her eyes fought against the tears, realizing that her brother had been even younger that his namesake the last time she had seen him, that fatal day when their father had forced him to run almost 17 years ago.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter II:

**Disclaimer:** I do not own anything and I am not a doctor, so sorry if something is incorrect.

**Thanks everybody for all the favorites, follow and specially all the reviews.**

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"Why is there an ambulance outside? They are saying someone called them and gave them this address, is everything ok, Neal?" June spoke loudly and concerned on her way up the stairs, opening the door without knocking, "oh Neal!" she cried running to the unconscious man, "is he ok?"

"I don't know, I need to go get the paramedics, stay with him," Peter indicated as he ran out to guide the paramedics up.

June caressed the unconscious man's hair, repressing her tears as she took in his appearance.

"Everything is going to be ok, Neal," she comforted, probably more herself that the conman.

"J…n?" Neal mumbled without opening his eyes.

"Shhh… it is ok, Neal, I am here, everything is going to be ok," June soothed the boy.

"P..t..r? … Call… Pe…tr.."

"Peter is coming, Neal, he…"

June was interrupted by a running Peter, paramedics right on his toes.

"I am here, Neal," he said holding his hand.

"We need some space to work," said one of the paramedics apologetically as he moved Peter and June from Neal's side. Neal, agitated, refused to let go of the hand holding his.

"Neal, we need to let the paramedics work, you are not ok," Peter said calmly, as if talking to a child, "we are right here, we are not going anywhere."

"It's ok," the paramedic said compassionately, while he took his pulse, the other paramedic listening to his heart and lungs, "hold his hand," he told Peter, "just try to stay out of the way," then he turned to Neal, "Neal, can you hear me?"

Neal was trying to open his eyes while Peter explained the paramedics how he had just gotten punched a couple of times yesterday.

"How could a couple of punches do this to him?" He asked frantic.

"His lungs are failing," the second paramedic said concerned, "we need to hurry!"

"WHAT?" Peter freaked out while the paramedics hurried Neal into a gurney and moved him down to the ambulance.

June let the tears flow as they started moving. "What is wrong with him?" she sobbed.

The ambulance ride was gloomy and silent as June held an unconscious Neal's hand with her left and Peter's with her right, neither of them talking, only tightening their grip with each concerned word and look the paramedics were giving. Neal seemed to be getting worst by the minute.

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Seven hours later, Peter, Elizabeth, June and Mozzie were in the waiting room of the hospital, waiting for news.

June was sitting, her eyes close and she would look almost asleep if it wasn't for the nervous twitching of her hands. Mozzie, covered by a surgical mask, was trembling, walking towards the door and then back inside, as if he couldn't decided if he wanted to be in or out of the hospital. Peter was pacing frantically, not paying any attention to his surroundings. Elizabeth was walking from one to the other trying to calm them and make them feel better.

"Neal Caffrey?" A nurse said loudly. The troop ran to her and as soon as they reached her, she pointed to a doctor waiting for them in a corner.

"How is Neal, doctor?" Elizabeth was the first one to be able to speak.

"Well, he was not in good shape when he got here. We had to take him to the OR right away; his appendix ruptured, most likely due to trauma to his stomach, and caused peritonitis, the operation was a success, so there should be no complications in that regards. Yet, the untreated peritonitis leaded him into septic shock, which you could explain in lay terms as, the toxins started freely circulating in his blood, is like the body is poisoning itself. His lungs and kidney started to fail as a result of this, but started him on heavy antibiotics and put him on dialysis, hopefully that will work and there will be no permanent damage, but the first 72 hours are critical, after that, we will know if his body is responding to the antibiotics."

"And if it doesn't?"

The doctor shrugged, "lets not think about that," everybody in the room looked at him not satisfied with that answer, the doctor sighed, "if his lungs don't get better, he might have to live in life support for the rest of his life, eventually getting a lung- heart transplant. If his kidneys don't get better, he might have to get dialysis three times a week until we can find a new kidney for him. If any of those things happen, or both, without a successful transplant, his life expectancy won't be long, but again, I am confident we got to him on time, and he will be fine."

"Can we go see him?" Elle asked.

The doctor nodded, "he is on the ICU, room 503, he is still asleep, he won't wake up for several hours. We had to intubate him, but we will remove the tube and replace it by oxygen when he wakes up. When he does wake up, make sure that he remains calmed, most people do not like having a tube inside them." he said, almost sarcastically.

"You go ahead," Peter told the rest, "I need to call the Diana, I promised I would call her as soon as I had any news, everybody at the department is worried."

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Elle and June gasped in surprised when they entered the room, tears covering their eyes. Neal was not Neal any more; he was a complicated matrix of wires and tubes, surrounded by colorful machines.

"I know it looks bad, but I promise all these are to help him, they do not hurt," a young female nurse that was finishing arranging Neal whispered to them, "he is going to be fine, he is young and he looks in real good shape," she took one last admiring look at Neal's bare chest and covered it with a blanket.

"Thank you," Elle smiled at her gratefully, as the nurse exited the room.

The nurse got all the way to the door before turning around, "can I ask you one question?" she asked the women sheepishly. Mozzie was too concerned about Neal and his phobia to pay much attention to the nurse.

"Sure, sweetheart," June answered her maternally.

"Which color are his eyes?" the nurse was almost embarrassed.

June smiled amused and knowingly.

Elle chuckled, "huge and deep baby blue, his smile is also a spectacle, you make sure to be here when he wakes up, you won't regret it."

The nurse blushed, " are you…?" she pointed at Neal and Elle.

Elizabeth laughed, "no, he is single, I am married to him," she pointed behind the nurse, where Peter was standing.

Apologizing the nurse left space for Peter to pass and left the room.

"UN- BELIVABLE!" Peter exclaimed, "look at him, he is a living tube and bruises! And they still all fall like flies!"

"Are you jealous?" Elle asked amused.

"Me? Noo… I got the best woman out there, no need for any other paying attention to me."

"Good answer, Hon," Elizabeth kissed his cheek.

They all sat in silence, waiting for Neal to wake up.

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"I think he is waking up," Elizabeth said noticing some slight movement in Neal's hand.

She was sitting in a chair right beside the injured man. Peter, who was sitting in the couch reading some files that Jones had brought for him several hours ago, ran to them.

The sun had set several hours ago and visiting hours were long passed. Peter and Elle had been allowed to stay since the doctor thought it was probably better for the patient to have a familiar face when he woke up confused and in an unknown place.

"Neal?" Peter spoke softly and Neal slightly stirred, "open your eyes, buddy."

Neal slowly open his eyes, looking around confused, his first instinct was to reach for the tube in his throat.

"Don't!" Peter stopped him, grabbing his hand while Elle pressed the nurse call button.

Neal's eyes open wide questioning in shock.

"Neal, honey," Elle, stroking his hair, deciding that tact was not her husband's strength, "don't take it out, it was to help you breath, the nurses will come in any minute to take the tube out."

"HGMGMM?" Neal tried to speak, hard task with a tube in his trachea.

"I called 911 and they brought you to the hospital, something inside you burst and somehow the toxins did a number on you. The doctors will explain it all to you, but you are OK now." Peter explained as a couple of nurses walked into the room.

"Ok Mr. Caffrey," the first nurse gave the patient a flirty smile. Neal eyes looked at her smiling, he was trying to do the same with his mouth, "lets take this tube out of you, ok?"

Neal nodded.

"When I say so cough, do you understand?" asked the second nurse smiling at him and gently touching his cheek.

Neal gifted her too with one of his looks and nodded, the nurse's smile broaden. Neal gently touched her hand and she blushed.

"Ready?" the first nurse said almost jealous, Neal now looked at her, his hand still on the other nurse's. "Cough."

Neal did as told and a few minutes later a nasal oxygen tube replaced the tracheal one. The nurses fought for Neal's attention as they explained what had happened to him, what to expect and how to take care of himself.

Neal did his best to appear dashing, but he was obviously too sick and exhausted to pull it off for long.

"Ok, Neal, now rest," the first nurse said looking straight into his eyes removing the bangs out of his forehead.

"anks…" Neal barely manage to whispered.

"Call us if you need anything," the second nurse squeezed his shoulder, "anything…"

Neal offered her a winning smile. They both smiled at him and started leaving the room.

"Make sure he rests," the nurse told Peter and Elle, "and call us if he needs anything."

"Anything," said the second nurse as they left.

Peter sighed shaking his head as if saying no, "you are the only person in the world that would flirt with the nurses while they remove the ventilator," his tone was amused.

"Correction..." Neal's voice came out weak and tired, slurring, "I am…the only… person… in the world… that looks good… doing so…besides… the… nurses… are…" his voice was getting weaker and weaker, each word taking longer to come out " going… to be… the ones… taking… care… of me…, they… can make… my… stay… here… plea..sant… or… hell , … I… vo… te… for… ple..a..sant"

Elle chuckled, "I am sure they will make it as pleasant as possible. Now go to sleep Neal. June says she will be here tomorrow morning, it got too late for her and Mozzie was here too, he left saying something about sticking it to the man and something about the institutions and how they don't have power than the one we attribute to them or something."

Neal laughed weakly, though it sounded more like a cough.

"Sleep Neal."

Neal nodded and closed his eyes, a second later he was asleep.

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"Mr. Caffrey, Mr Caffrey," the doctor shook him slightly trying to wake him up, "do you think you can wake up for a few minutes so, I can check on you? Mr. Caffrey."

"..all me ..eal" Neal said groggy opening his eyes.

"Hi Neal, I am Dr Albraight. How are you feeling? Are you in pain?"

"I am in less pain that I was before." Neal smiled weakly, looking around, it was already daytime and only Peter was in the room. Elizabeth probably had left, which was good, Neal didn't want everybody stuck in the hospital because of him.

"Well, that is good to know but considering you must have been in excruciating pain, that is not much of an answer. " he chuckled, as he open Neal's eyes eyelids wider with his thumb and index, "I heard these ones have my female staff charmed," the doctor said pointing at Neal's eyes with a light and looking at them, "please follow the light."

Peter chuckled, "yeah, that is Neal alright, no woman can resist his charm. Not that Neal's can resist any woman's charm either."

The doctor laughed too, Neal just gave them a tired, yet charming smile, "Yeah, I heard rumors of that smile in the hallway too," the doctor said amused, "please help me sit him up," the doctor asked Peter, raising the bed a little. Peter did as told. When they were done the doctor place a stethoscope in his chest and asked Neal to breathe a few time.

He checked his vitals, his temperature was still too high, they needed to find a way to break that fever. He asked Neal if he was still nauseas, to what he answered a little. The exam continued for another ten minutes.

"No urine," the doctor said worried looking at an empty bag near Neal's bed, "Neal, I need you to try to urinate, I know it is weird and an uncomfortable topic, but it is important."

Peter looked at Neal concerned.

"I can't pee in a tube! I have a tube inserted it in my…. In my…THING,"

"I know Neal," the doctor was understanding, obviously more used to this than Neal or Peter, "but you can't move in your state and your kidneys were failing, we need to be able to track your urine, you need to try, this is really serious."

"Neal, please… for god sake…now is not the time to be prude!" Peter reprimanded him.

Neal smirked at him, "you are not the one that has a tube inserted in there and is expected to pee through it!"

"I'll tell you what Neal, promise you'll try to pee and I promised I'll get the two prettiest nurses in the hospital to give a sponge bath, does that sound fair?" the doctor proposed.

"Get the three prettiest and you have yourself a deal!" Neal smiled.

"Good, now rest," the doctor lowered the bed back to horizontal position, "no stress, no getting agitated and try to drink lots of water, be a good patient, Neal. I'll come back to check on you in ten hours right before the end of my shift. If you feel dizzy, nauseous, short of breath or feel your heart is acting weird, any weirdness actually, call the nurse immediately."

Peter followed the doctor out of the room.

"Be honest with me doctor, how is he?"

"I can tell you he is a good actor," he smiled sadly, "he is probably in a lot of pain, his fever is still over 104, that worries me because it means the antibiotics are not as effective as we hoped, but there is no reason to panic, I will adjust his medication a little and hopefully that will work. The only problem with good actors that want to be heroes is that they tend to not tell that they are in pain until is too late, so someone needs to constantly be monitoring that there is no change for the worst. It is important that you call the nurse if anything seems wrong, a false alarm is better than alarm that comes too late. Ok?"

Peter nodded, "I'll make sure there is always someone watching him over."

"Good, also, it is really concerning that he hasn't urinated yet, his kidney were the most affected, we need to make sure they are still working. As it is, he is probably going to have dialysis again soon."

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"at…doc.. say?" Neal greeted Peter as he entered the room with his eyes closed.

"He said you were a great conman and not to trust a word you say,"

Neal opened his eyes and looked at him in disbelief.

"Ok, he might have called you a great actor that wants to be a hero, but bottom line is the same."

"Like… better…" Neal closed his eyes again.

"He said you should start telling when you are not feeling good."

"I…m'k,… cow…boy up… right?" he smiled at Peter tiredly and caringly, no hint of mockery.

"NO NEAL, no cowboying up! This is serious, you are really sick, you need to tell us when you are not feeling well. We are all worried, we don't want you to be pretending you are better than you are!" Peter tone was disturbed, almost angry out of concern and frustration.

Neal smiled like a child, "glad…y'ca..re…" and he was asleep again.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Thanks for all the favorites, alerts and specially all the reviews.**

**Please if someone wants to beta read my story, let me know… English is not my native language and I would appreciate some help.**

**Chapter III:**

"Come on, Neal, just a couple of bites," Elizabeth begged pushing the fork closer to the laying man's mouth.

Neal shook his head, "No… no… hungry," he pouted, his voice so weak it was almost a whisper.

"You haven't eaten since the day before yesterday and I am pretty sure you threw up everything you eat that day, eat something Neal." Peter used his traditional ordering- father voice.

Elle smiled caringly at the blue eye man, pushing the fork closer. Neal moved his head on the pillow trying to avoid it. "Smell…Nau…seous," he murmured, closing his eyes, a grimace in his face.

"Maybe we should call the nurse?" Elle looked at her husband.

"No… no nurse!" Neal's voice now came louder.

"Neal, you are nauseous and your fever has gone up, two of the things for what the doctor told us to call the nurses immediately," Peter was caring but firm, like every time he had to dissuade Neal from doing something stupid.

"I…m …ure …ICU… nurses have…mo…re… serious… ings….t'…worry about."

"Neal, you are in the ICU, that should give you a frame of reference on how serious your condition is!" Peter was getting exasperated.

"Tired… want… sleep," he ignored Peter, closing his eyes and positioning himself for a nap.

"Come on, Neal, eat something," Elle begged.

"No food… sleep," he mumbled and he was already asleep.

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"Cold" Neal whimpered in his dream shaking, a few hours later.

His fever was going up and they knew it was not a good sign. Mozzie took off his coat and covered him with it while June looked unsuccessfully for some extra blankets, calling for the nurse when she couldn't find any.

"His fever is up and he is freezing," she explained the nurse, "can you bring some extra blankets?"

The nurse removed the coat from on top of Neal and injected something into his I.V. "Hopefully this will help with the fever, but covering him won't do any good, it might even do some harm. I can bring some ice patches for you to apply to him if you want to."

"Wouldn't that make him even colder?" Mozzie stated the obvious.

The nurse shrugged, "right now, our main concern is to lower his fever," her tone was serious, looking at Neal with compassion in her eyes, "it is a lot higher than what we would hope it would be."

June nodded, "thank you, Dear."

Neal shook his head in his sleep, trying to avoid the icy contact in his forehead.

"No, no… cold," he begged.

"It is ok, Neal," June soothed him motherly, caressing his damped hair, "this will make you feel better," she tried to avoid showing the guilt she felt in her tone. She knew the icy cloths would help in the long run, but they didn't seem to make him feel better in that instant.

"J…ne?" he opened his eyes a little.

"I am here, my boy," she smiled at him maternally, caressing his cheek with one hand and keeping the cold cloth on Neal's forehead with the other.

"on't….eel …ood,"

"I know, Neal, just rest, we will all be here taking care of you."

"We are right here," Mozz said comfortingly, too.

Neal gave her a weak smile, without opening his eyes, searching for her hand blindly; he grabbed it and held it tight.

"...etr... mad?"

"No, Neal, why would Peter be mad?"

"cut work.. not a con… n't…eel…ood."

"He knows you don't feel good, don't worry about it, now rest," June's maternal instincts were kicking in full gear; in her heart, Neal was like her son.

"Cold… argag…home…brsts… Kate… mrmmrr…eter…ozz.." Neal mumbled incoherent words, sprinkled with some sense.

"Just rest, Neal," Mozzie insisted, "we are all here for you."

Neal went back to a delirious sleep. Not even an hour had passed before he woke up again.

June had been replaced for Peter. They would have all loved to be there all the time, but Mozzie, Elizabeth, Peter and June were taking turns between their normal lives and taking care of Neal.

"Water, please," he begged, "…rsty"

Peter hurried to pour a glass of water for his friend.

"Slowly," he said helping Neal up so he could drink.

Neal ignored him, drinking as if he had been lost in the desert for a month. "…more…"

Mozzie handed Peter a second glass and he gave it to Neal, who drank it as avidly as the first one, choking half way through it.

"Easy, easy," Peter ordered the convalescent boy.

Neal cracked his eyes a little and looked around him. "eter… ozzie," he said groggily.

"A faithful friend is the medicine of life." Mozzie quoted.

Neal just smiled, "a fortune cookie in my dying bed? How refined," his voice was hushed and weak, but coherent.

"Don't even joke with that, Neal!" Mozzie was outraged.

Neal just looked at them, "I am dying, I can feel it." Peter and Mozzie looked at him in shock, "it is ok," he said sadly, Peter rang for the nurse, "I want to see Kate… she owes me a lot of answers," he smiled jokingly at them.

"Oh Jesus… not Kate again," Peter couldn't help himself.

"I miss her," now Neal was serious.

"Knowing her, she will be hidding from you in hell and asking you to rob satan's trident." Peter joked.

Neal looked at him sadly, "I am dying and I do miss her, you…"

The nurse chose that moment to arrive, "what seems to be the problem?" she asked, truly sounding concerned.

" He is saying that he is dying, can you tell him he is not?" Mozzie tried to restrain the tears.

"Neal, why are you saying that?" the nurse ran to him, checking his vitals, "let me call the doctor," she said running out of the room.

Neal just closed his eyes.

"NEAL!" Mozzie panicked.

Neal opened his eyes slightly just to show them he wasn't dead and closed them again, "I am not dead yet, Mozz, these machines will start making a heck of a noise when I die."

"Don't say that Neal," now it was Peter's turn.

"Don't leave me alone, please," Neal's voice was calm and brave, not wanting to show his fear, "I don't want to die alone."

Both men were about to answer but the doctor interrupted them, two nurses following him, "what is all this talk about dying, Neal? You are not dying, why are you saying that?"

"Dr. Albraight, thank god you are here." Peter said relieved.

"Can you leave me alone with Neal for a second?" Neal opened his eyes and was about to object, "Neal everything is going to be ok, they are going to be right outside the door and I won't let you die on my watch, ok?"

Neal nodded and the other two left the room.

"So now that your friends are not here, what seems to be the problem, Neal?"

"I don't feel good, doc. There is something really wrong," he said, his voice getting weaker.

The doctor, aided by the nurses, started examining him, looking at the monitors, taking his blood pressure. Neal's eyes were closed, which was fortunate because he missed the concerned look of the doctor and nurses when he answer he didn't feel like urinating. The bag were the urine should had been was almost empty and looked dark with blood.

"Dizzy…. real dizzy," Neal interrupted them, and started gagging covering his mouth, a nurse handed him a recipient for him to throw up. Neal panicked noticing the blood coming out of his mouth.

"Neal, it looks like you have some internal bleeding, that is why you are feeling so sick," the doctor said calmly and Neal wondered how much practice he needed to speak calmly in these situations. He didn't have that practice and felt himself hyperventilating, "I am going to sedate you now, we will take you to the O.R and fix it, you will be ok soon, ok?"

Neal nodded with his eyes closed, trying to compose himself as felt the prick of the neddle in his arm, his body started relaxing almost immediately.

"It's ok, sweety, calm down," he heard the muffled sound of one of the nurse whispering to him, "I will explain your friends what is going on and they will all be here when you wake up."

Neal nodded one more time before passing out completely.

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"We were able to contain the internal bleeding and his blood pressure is back to normal," the doctor explained Elizabeth, Mozzie, June and Peter as soon as Neal was out of surgery and back in his room, "he should be waking up soon and feeling better. We are still really concerned about his kidneys, his lungs seem to be healing fine, but his kidneys are still not working. You might want to start looking for compatible donors and researching about dialysis. Nowadays people are able to live decades on dialysis, he is young and healthy, but a transplant is always better. Dialysis takes not only 4 hours, three times a week but also it takes a physical and emotional toll on everybody. He is going to feel weak, sick, he is probably not going to be able to work."

"When are we going to know for sure if his kidneys are not responding to the medication?" Elizabeth asked concerned.

"I'll give it twenty four more hours, but don't raise your hopes up, it doesn't look good," doctor Albright said apologetically, "a nurse will come shortly with some material for you to read."

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Peter violently threw the magazine about transplants that he had been reading.

"It is ok, sweetie, everything is going to be ok," Elle walked to him trying to calm him down.

"He is a convict, he can not even be put in the list for a transplant and dialysis not only seems awful, but if he can't work, he is back in prison. I won't be able to do anything about it."

"In a world of increasing inequality, the legitimacy of institutions that give precedence to the rights of "the Haves" over the rights of "the Have Nots" is inevitably called into serious question." Mozzie quoted.

"Beautiful" Peter said sarcastically, "but I do not think Neal can be put into "the have nots" category and he hasn't been in that category for a while. The problem is not the institutions, the problem is the bad decisions he made in his life."

"It's ok, living donor transplants are even more effective, we can all get tested to see if anyone is a match," Elizabeth was practical.

'The chances would be a lot higher if we could find a relative," Peter added, "Does anyone have any idea if Neal has any relatives?" Peter's eyes turned mostly to Mozzie.

"Sorry, suit, I know as much about Neal's family as you do, he doesn't talk about that. I have tried a few times, but he refuses to do so."

June and Elle also shook their heads in negative.

"Well, let's get tested then," Elle shrugged, "hopefully we won't need it."

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"So my kidneys are not working, uh?" nobody had noticed Neal had woken up, they all looked at him surprised with quizzical expressions, "either that or all of you suddenly developed an interesting reading hobby, " he said pointing at the cover of the fliers and magazines they were reading.

He seemed to be slightly better, at least we was talking, soft and weakly, but coherently and in full sentences.

"How are you feeling, honey?" Elle run to him and lovingly caressed his hair.

"I would feel better if you'd tell me that my kidneys are functioning the way they should," Neal moved his eyes to look at her, without moving the rest of his body.

"We don't know yet, they will know in the next twenty four hours if the antibiotics are working."

"What does Dr. Albraight say?"

Nobody really answered. Neal closed his eyes and took a deep breath, trying to repress all the fear and emotions coming to him.

"Pass me one of those magazines," he asked Mozzie opening his eyes again.

"Neal…." Peter started, but he really didn't know what else to say.

"Peter, if someone should be informed about what should be expected, that should be me, " Neal looked at them pleadingly, some of his fear showing. Yet, after two minutes of reading, he closed his eyes and put the magazine down, "Can't read," he said frustrated.

"You have a fever of 103, Neal, it's ok," June explained him caringly. Neal loving smile was the saddest she had seen in a long time.

"The first alternative is dialysis…" Mozzie sat beside him and started patiently explaining Neal all he knew and answering his questions. Neal closed his eyes and listened attentively to his friend, trying to remain calmed and lighten everybody's mood.

**A/N: Please make me happy and review. Also, for the impatient ones, they will start looking for Neal's family in the next chapter.**


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter IV:**

_A/N: Thanks for all the reviews. Some people pointed out that convicts are not excluded from transplant's lists (and also a couple pointed medical inaccuracies), I appreciate your feedback and I really hope I have not offended anyone. _

_Please, consider all the inaccuracies or exaggerations, just poetic license embellishments. If Neal could have gotten into the transplant list easily, it would be harder to convince him to seek for his family. _

_Thank you very much to everybody that offered to Beta my story and thanks to the lovely JadeAlmasy for doing so._

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"Neal, listen to me," Neal looked at Peter, "you need a kidney transplant." Neal nodded, "you are a convicted felon, they won't put you on the list." Peter's eyes were getting glossy, "the only chance we have is for you to find a willing, live donor."

Neal nodded, sadly, "how do we do that?"

"Neal, I know you don't like to talk about the past, I know you don't want anyone to know about your childhood, but… we need to know, I NEED to know… We can't give up…"

Neal closed his eyes in obvious struggle and then opened them again, staring blankly at the people in the room.

"Family members have a higher chance to be a match, do you have any living relatives, Neal?" Mozzie asked.

Neal looked at Peter with all the sadness in the world, like begging him not to force him to talk.

"Please Neal, we were all tested, everybody that we could think of, and nobody is a match. Don't do this to us." Elle grabbed his hand, her eyes full of tears.

"Peter…" Neal whispered weakly

"I'll be your friend, Neal, not Peter Burke, FBI agent, but Peter Burke, your friend. Whatever you say will never be revealed to the authorities, Neal, I promise."

Neal nodded, "I had a sister and a father, they were alive when I left. I don't know if they still are, I don't know if they will be willing to help me. My father hates me…" His tone was devastatingly sad.

"What are their names, Neal? " Mozzie asked impatiently.

"I swear we will make them help you, Neal." Peter said at the same time.

Elizabeth just squeezed his hand tighter.

"Wilkins, my last name is Wilkins, Neal Wilkins, my sister's name is Jenny, Jennifer Wilkins. My father's name is Mark, Mark Wilkins." Neal sighed, exhausted.

Peter picked up his phone and dialed, "Diana, I need you to find everything you can about Jennifer and Mark Wilkins, father and daughter, last seen in…" he looked at Neal.

"Please, let me tell you my side of the story first!" Neal pleaded.

"You will….now… last seen in?"

"North Carolina, seventeen years ago." Neal was fighting hard not to break.

Elle gently caressed his upper arm. "Everything is going to be Ok, Neal," she whispered in his ear.

"You don't know that," was Neal's sad ultimatum.

It took Peter a couple more minutes on the phone to explain Diana that this was to help Neal and that it was supposed to be kept confidential; Diana promised to call as soon as she had something.

"You have to believe me," Neal begged, looking at each person in the room pleadingly, with pained eyes, his breathing speeding up.

"Neal you haven't told us anything yet, calm down" June walked closer to her tenant and took the hand Elizabeth was not holding.

"What that report will say, is not true. Peter, please… I need you to believe me, that is not true."

"What is not true, Neal?" Peter tone was calm, soothing.

"I didn't do it." Neal's eyes were filling up with tears.

"What didn't you do, sweetie?" Elle asked

"I didn't kill my mother! Please…" he looked at the people around him, everybody looked at him shocked and in silence. "I need you to believe me… I didn't do it."

"We believe you, Neal," Peter finally spoke.

"You do?" Neal was suddenly breathing easier.

Mozzie, Peter, June and Elle nodded. "Why don't you tell us your side of the story, Neal?"

"I don't know why my parents had me and my sister, I guess we were an accident… mom was drunk most of the times, but she was Ok, I guess. She never hurt us and in her own way she loved us, but my dad… he was always high and drunk and he would get violent, hit my mom, hit me, hit Jenny… He was big man, a lot bigger than me. "

Peter and Mozzie were looking at him serious, paying grave attention to every word. Elle was crying holding hands tightly with June who was trying to repress her distress.

"Sorry, Elle." Neal apologized, she just gave him a sad smile and kissed his cheek.

"It's Ok, please continue," she begged.

"Then….one night, when I was fifteen…" Neal stared at the ceiling, trying to detach himself from the painful memories, "he got home, he was really drunk and pissed. He started hitting Jenny, but I tried to stop him and then he unloaded his entire wrath on me. He was furious, I don't even know why… and that is when he grabbed the wrench." Neal paused for a second and swallowed soundly, "he started hitting me with it. I tried to take it away from him, we were fighting and then mom… I don't know... somehow she got in the middle of us. She was begging him to stop, telling him he was going to kill me. I don't remember much, he hit me… I fell, blacking out, when I was conscious again, Jenny was kneeling beside me crying. Mom was laying on the floor limp and dad was yelling at me "Look what you made me do, little brat!"

He had killed her, hit her in the head with the wrench. He said that I had to run, leave and never come back, that it was all my fault and he was going to make sure that the police knew that. He blamed me for my mother's death, he said that if I ever came back, if I ever told anyone he was going to kill Jenny.

I couldn't let him do that! Jenny was the only good thing in my life. For all I know, he might have killed her already, or he might kill her when he finds out I am looking for them," now Neal started panicking again, "Peter you have to be careful… you need to make sure nothing happens to my sister, she is a good girl."

"Nothing will happen to her, Neal. I don't know why you haven't mentioned this sooner! Someone should have done something. Why didn't you tell?"

Neal shrugged, "Risking my sister's life in a gamble like that? Who would have believed me?"

"I would have! I promise that bastard is going to pay for what he did. " Peter said firmly "after he gets tested and donate you a kidney, if he is a match."

Neal smiled weakly, his eyes closing from exhaustion "thank you," he mumbled, almost asleep.

"For what?"

"For believing me," Neal fell asleep while pronouncing those words.

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"I found them" Diana exclaimed happily as she run into the room with a bunch of papers.

"Shhh" Elizabeth placed a finger on her lip, "Neal is sleeping."

"Sorry," Diana shrugged.

"It's Ok, I am awake," Neal said groggy, "what did you find?"

"Well, your father…" Diana said somberly, though Peter had told her the whole story, it still didn't make it easy "he is in jail, for murdering your mother. Your sister came through a year after you ran away, she went to the police and told them everything that happened."

Neal opened his eyes in shock.

"Brave woman your sister," Diana said.

Neal nodded, "Do you know where she is? Is she ok?"

"We do know where she is, she has been searching for you for all these years. Apparently she calls missing persons every year on May 25th and makes sure they don't forget about you," Diana smirked.

Neal laughed happily, it felt as if a huge load had been taken off his shoulders, "the day I left the house, that is Jenny for you. Are you sure she is Ok? Can I see her?"

Diana's expression went somber, "We have men in California going to get her as we speak, but Neal, you need to understand, her life has not been easy. "

"I know that!"

"There is more…" she continued, "…you have a niece and a nephew," Neal smiled happily, "no man in her life, but the kids seem to be Ok."

"That is awesome! " Neal said happily.

"Can they get tested? To see if they are a match?" Peter asked hopefully.

"I am not taking a kidney from my sister's kids!"

"Your niece, Cassandra, is four, so she is too young. Your nephew, Neal, go figure she would name her kid after you, he is sixteen, he is old enough."

"Sixteen?" Neal said surprised, that would mean that Jenny had the baby when she was fifteen, when she was still with their father.

Diana nodded, "that is why your sister went to the police, she couldn't let your father hurt the baby. She didn't have the guts to defend herself, but sometimes it is impressive the amount of fear mothers can overcome to protect their children."

"Well, then it is good news. Your father is in jail and the kid can get tested to see if he is a match." Mozzie said happily.

"I am not letting someone butcher my sister's kid!" Neal objected.

"Let's get to them first and then they can decide themselves, Ok?" Elle intervene.

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Jenny watched interested as the man dressed in a suit walked determined to the cash register, she didn't get to see many men in suit in the mini-market.

"Hi," she smiled at him, "can I help you?"

"I am looking for Jennifer Wilkins"

"Well, you found her, what can I do for you, mister…?"

"Walker," he said pulling out an ID from his pocket, "Arthur Walker, FBI."\

"Wooww… impressive what I can do for you, Mr. Walker, Arthur Walker, FBI," She teased him a little with a winning smile.

" Are you Neal Wilkins' sister?"

"You have news about my brother?" all the playfulness gone from her tone.

"Yes, he is an FBI consultant in New York, we have orders to take you and your kids there at your earliest convenience."

"Is he Ok?"

"I can't tell you that, madam."

"Please," she begged, "I've been looking for my brother for 17 years."

The agent shrugged, "Sorry Madam, I don't know anything more than I already told you, but I can put you in contact with the person that requested your presence in New York."

"Go with him, Sweetie." Gracey's voice came from the opposite end of the store, "I'll look after the kids when they come from school."

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"I talked to your sister over the phone," Peter told him, "I explained her everything, they are on their way, they will arrive tonight, June is preparing everything to host them in her house and Mozzie paid for the plane tickets, I am not going to ask how he got the money, but your sister is in the red right now, even if she didn't even dare to ask for a penny, we figured it was the best way."

"How did she sound? Was she Ok? Was she happy… to hear about me, I mean?" Neal asked nervously, almost shyly.

"She was not very happy to hear about the circumstances, but she really wanted to talk to you, she was really hoping she could. We can try calling her right now if you want, she left me her number, they might still be at the airport."

Neal nodded and Peter dialed the phone.

After a few seconds, "Jenny, it's me, Peter Burke. Neal is awake, he wanted to say hi…. Don't cry… no crying…" Peter continued uncomfortable, getting rid of the phone as fast and clumsily as possible.

"Hey Jenny," Neal voice sounded soft and caring.

"Oh, Neal, is that really you?" Jenny asked in between sobs.

"It's me Jen, don't cry."

"I looked for you for so long. I had lost all hope."

"It's Ok, I am here and we will be together in a few hours."

"Thank you for paying for the flight and all… I promise I'll give you the money back,"

"You don't need to give me anything back."

"Neal…"

"I know you hate charity, but you are my sister, this is not charity. Besides, you are coming here to see if you can save my life, I am sure that is merit enough for me to pay for the trip."

Jenny sighed resigned, she knew she would never be able to afford the trip herself, "We'll get tested as soon as we land," she promised.

"That is not what I meant! I would have looked for you…. If I knew it was safe, I would have looked for you a lot sooner," Neal said apologetically.

"I know, Neal. Don't worry about it, the present is what matters, that and making sure you get well…. I really hope Neal… my son Neal or I are a match."

"Jenny, he is a kid, I can't let your kid do that for me."

"Then he'll do it for me." She said resolute and didn't allow him to answer, "I have to go, they are boarding the plane, see you in a few hours. I missed you, Neal."

"I missed you too," he said before the phone went dead.


End file.
